


i met her once and wrote a song about her

by fashsm



Category: Power Rangers, Power Rangers (2017)
Genre: F/F, kim plays the bass bc lemonade mouth, obviously, rating m bc idk what im gonna do w it, tommy jason and kim r in a band, zack and trini go to their show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-20 20:02:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11342277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fashsm/pseuds/fashsm
Summary: Kim is in a cool band and Trini likes girls who can sing.





	i met her once and wrote a song about her

Trini  _ loves  _ mosh pits. Specifically, being in the few rows between the really rough part of the crowd and the barricade of the stage, where you can feel pushing up against you and if you wanted to you could just reach out and touch the bands shoes. Her friends who will tolerate the bands she likes don’t like the roughness of that or the physicality that comes with concerts in general. Zack comes the closest and runs around in circles during the breakdowns of songs, but there’s nothing to Trini like a night full of loud music in the middle of a pushing crowd.

 

“Hey, T!”

 

Trini follows the sound to see Zack bounding up behind her, pushing through the audience. She knows they’re both ready for the opener to come on. It’s a tiny venue, the cement-floored basement of an art gallery downtown, and the stage takes up half the space, but the barricade is just a metal bar so Trini and Zack are level with where the band will be. The stage in front of them is more of a step and the cement pillars are covered in graffiti, but this has been Trini’s favorite place since she found it last month.

 

“Yo I heard this opening band is good, they only have one song on Spotify but it’s really chill. The touring opener’s singer got sick so they found a local band.”

 

Trini nods with a thoughtful “hm” but otherwise doesn’t really think much on it; she’s more just excited that this show only has one opener unlike other shows that have 5 bands playing. As lame as it sounds, she wants to get to bed before 2 tonight. She’s got peer review in her writing class tomorrow morning and she will not let Zack convince her to go to an after-show party like he usually does.

 

People start to push a little more around her, talking and getting antsy, and Trini notices one guy in a button-up settle at her other side and cross his arms like he doesn’t want to be there. His scowl grows when the speaker stops playing music and the lights go down, but Trini’s already paying attention to the stage. 

 

The lights over the audience fade and the cold space fills with the ringing of the amps and the mic feedback. Three people walk out on the “stage”, she can’t really see them but she doesn’t have to because the instrumentation starts a moment later. Trini is vaguely aware of Zack nodding his head beside her to the glitzy guitars and snappy drums and she’s into it. Once she gets past the initial shock of the sound of this band compared to the main act, (because this band is far from the hardest shit she listens to, but their opener tonight sounds like The 1975, and it is  _ way  _ throwing her off), she loves the pounding of the drums she can feel under her feet. But then the light comes up on the mics and she’s  _ really  _ into it.

 

Two of the three people playing are girls, first of all. And the guy is cute enough, a guitar slung over his oversized red shirt; and the drummer girl has short choppy hair and tan, muscled arms in a green tank, but it’s the bassist that really captures Trini’s attention.

 

Tall, no more than a year or two older than herself, with dark shoulder length hair, a leather jacket over a strappy pink tank top, and a beauty mark by her lip that Trini stares up at with an open mouth. The girl is center stage, the bass low on her hips while she strums and her posture cool and easy as she opens her mouth and starts to sing.

 

_ Live in my heart if you want to _

_ I know you hate it when I’m drunk _

 

And, okay, call her gay as hell, but Trini is really paying attention now. She actually does really like this song (and while she’ll only attribute  _ some _ of that to the cute singer, it’s actually a big reason). The girl’s voice is killer, melodic and rich and sweet with a touch of edge, nodding her head as she slaps expertly at the bass (with short nails, Trini notes) and spans the audience with her eyes. When she bounces on both her feet and winks in the direction of the front row as she sings “ _ I’m feelin you, feelin you” _ , Zack puts a hand to his chest and grips Trini’s arm dramatically.

 

Trini can’t tell. She’s basically in a trance from the first chorus until the end of the song, body moving to the beat and gaping up at the girl singing. The band plays a few other songs, equally groovy and catchy, and Trini continues to watch the bassist for the duration of their set. Once in the next song, and a few times in each song after that, there’s a moment where it looks like the woman is sparing a specific glance down to their part of the crowd and  _ no, it can’t be _ , but Trini could swear she’s looking at  _ her _ . 

 

There’s this glint in her eye that could be described as a sparkle and a quirk in her lip that is most definitely a smirk, and oh boy is Trini gay. At one point the stranger beside her scoffs and leaves, but Trini just makes herself more comfortable leaning against the barricade and holding eye contact with the girl onstage. She’s  _ definitely  _ smirking now, singing at Trini with a laugh in her eyes that’s devil-may-care and cute as hell, and Trini knows she's grinning right back at her like a moron.

 

She doesn’t even realize how close the girl actually is to her, up on that step, until Trini gathers her bearings in time to watch her set her bass on its stand, give a little bow, and turn on her heel to exit the stage, disappearing into the pillars of the basement into a side room.

 

_ Damn _ , she thinks, as the background music fades back in and the crowd shuffles back to a less cramped waiting position.

 

“You were into them, right? Told you!” Zack breaks her out of her daydreaming with a quiet nudge and a grin. He’s right, but Trini has a reputation to maintain. One of giving Zack shit.

 

“Yeah, they were alright.” She teases, when really she can’t even remember the name of the band they actually came to see. She’s been single for a while, okay? And it’s not new information that she stands in wide-eyed adoration for every girl who can sing on pitch.

 

_ This girl, though. _ She can’t wipe that stupid smile off her face. “Are they like, selling CDs after the show or something?” Be cool, Trin.

 

“We’ll see.” Is all Zack gives her, with a raised eyebrow that tells Trini he has something else, but she lets it slide.

 

She lets herself dip into conversation with Zack once again but might also be thinking about how to get backstage.  _ Later. _

 

…

 

During the headliner, something happens.

 

Trini feels the usual contact of bare arms and t-shirts and sweat and it’s not uncomfortable, it’s thoughtless and rhythmic and she fucking  _ loves  _ this song. What breaks her out of her reverie is a slam of her torso against the barrier in front of her as someone in the back presumably loses their balance and knocks other people like dominoes into her. It’s nothing unusual for a show, and this is one of those times where her stature is a disadvantage. Zacks gone so now she’s just surrounded by other taller people, who quickly learn that she  _ will _ push back. The music is still blaring, the heavy abrasiveness made even more so by the amps being right in front of her, and amidst all the fuzziness in her head she feels an arm wrap around her halfway and brace her back against the crowd behind.

 

The hand nearly holding her right side curls around the bar of the barricade and at her left stands its owner, a taller girl with dark hair and a beauty mark.

 

She really should’ve seen this coming.

 

The bassist has lost the jacket and stands in a sleeveless pink shirt, holding the barricade with both arms, Trini in one of them, watching the band play. Trini feels herself inflate in this girls embrace, gripping the bar so their fingers are just touching. The girl looks down at their hands and then up to meet Trini’s eyes, and if they sidle a bit nearer to each other so Trini is tucked into the other girls side, neither of them reject the motion.

 

Trini lets herself live in that moment for just a little while, enjoying the solid feel of the girl behind her, and she swears she smells a perfume that makes her head swim. The lights are moving above them and there’s fog in the air and Trini leans her head against the taller girls shoulder under the guise of bending to see the stage, when really she’s just a little overwhelmed by how serendipitous and _ gay  _ this is.

 

“Hey.” Trini speaks first, nodding up at the other girl now that there’s a beat between songs.

 

She looks cautiously hopeful when she smiles and replies, “I’m Kimberly. I was playing up there earlier.”, and she nods her head towards the stage and drops her arm from around Trini like she forgot she put it there.

 

_ Kimberly.  _ How oddly fitting, she thinks. The cheerleader name for the cute rocker girl. She can see Kimberly much better close like this, the texture in her hair and the pout of her lips.

 

“Yeah, I saw”, she replies, with cheeky sarcasm she hopes the other girl can detect. They both laugh but Kimberly backs off marginally at it, testing if the lack of space between them is good, and Trini just steps closer to her and smiles wider. “Trini.”

 

Kimberlys mouth twitches at the corner and her eyes look down over Trini once, slow. They’re both catching their breath through the sound of the band tuning their instruments. The space between them feels intimate, but not unwelcome. Like there’s something waiting offstage.

 

“ _ Trini _ . Are you enjoying the show tonight?”

 

Trini nods in the dark. “I’ll be real, you did kinda kick ass up there.”

 

Kimberly gives her a “Thanks,” ducking her head down and laughing, and then looks up and asks, surprisingly meekly, “Trini. Are you, um. Are you here with anyone tonight?”

 

And there it is, the breath Trini didn’t realize she was holding. Fuck peer review.

**Author's Note:**

> i had a plan for a longer fic but said "fuck it" and posted this part of it as a one shot for now. the world needs more punky aus. also here's a playlist i made if u wanna feel the punky trimberly vibes and i'm always adding to it https://open.spotify.com/user/1229282099/playlist/56NpukhfIMyYR7Hbv4jJAq


End file.
